


Unshakeable

by crossingwinter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Six: The Musical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossingwinter/pseuds/crossingwinter
Summary: Rey is performing in another fucking musical and Ben goes to see it.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 35
Kudos: 197
Collections: For one is both and both are one in love: The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology's Valentine's Day Exchange





	Unshakeable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [politicalmamaduck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/politicalmamaduck/gifts).



> You: Please write me all the canonverse things as part of this exchange.  
> Me: This is literally nothing you asked for but I hope you like it anyway.

“You don’t have to come,” Rey says over and over again.

But of course he’s going to come. He’s going to hate every second of it, but he’s going to sit there, for an hour, and see her show.

Ben hates musicals. He hates historical fiction. He hates how fucking sanctimonious everyone’s been about  _ Hamilton _ and he thinks this is only going to be worse.

But Rey keeps saying, “You don’t have to come,” to her friends when they ask her about it. “Mine’s not exactly the most interesting song,” she says nervously. “I mean it’s good, but it’s not like...the best song in the show.” That’s what makes him pause.

He loves Rey.

He honest to god thinks he might marry Rey. He puts up with her singing “Memory” from fucking  _ Cats the Musical _ in the shower, he puts up with her talking to all her friends about how she wants nothing more than to fly to New York and see  _ Hadestown _ . 

She’s a good actress. He’s seen her in serious productions before. She’s in things. He doesn’t know much about the local theater scene, but she’s in stuff which seems to be significant in Chicago. He doesn’t know how acting works so he’s only vaguely aware that she even auditions for this, and it’s not until opening night is approaching that he begins to catch her nerves.

“It’s a huge success on the West End,” Rey tells his mom one afternoon when Leia has them over for he can’t remember what fucking excuse she cooked up. 

“You’d think they’d be trying to bring it to Broadway, not here,” his mother replies.

“I think they are,” Rey says quietly, shooting Ben a look. Ben hates New York. Overcrowded, overpriced, and the only thing it has that Chicago doesn’t is Broadway and Ben hates musicals.  _ If it goes to Broadway, would they keep you in the cast?  _ He wonders before shoving that out of his mind.

He doesn’t want to begin to think about the conflict of Rey having to be far away from him in order to chase her dreams.

Anyway, she’s nervous. She’s been in musicals before. He’s suffered through Rogers and Hammerstein, and Stephen Sondheim, and other shit. But this--this is something else. She wasn’t nervous about those. She’s nervous about this and pretending not to be.

And here’s the thing--for being such a good actress, she’s truly terrible at lying.

Which is why when she asks, “Do you want a ticket?” he says yes. He knows he’s going to regret it. He really  _ hates _ musicals. But god he loves Rey and she keeps looking like she’s going to vomit whenever she talks about the performance, no matter how much she says it’s fine.

And when the curtain goes up, he knows that he’s in for the most painful hour of his life. This is going to be a hundred times worse than  _ Hamilton _ . This is going to be the worst thing he’s ever done to himself.  _ The things we do for love,  _ he thinks as the lights go up and six women step out onto the stage.

“Divorced,” one says into a microphone, followed by some drums and a diva pose. “Beheaded.”

_ Oh for fuck’s sake.  _ “Died.”

He supposes it could be worse. It could be trying to have a plot. But it isn’t really. This weird concept that they’re doing where they’re all competing--he can tell that at some point they’re gonna do a  _ gotcha we’re not actually competing _ . Because he’s been on Twitter before. He knows what a Feminism is. He’d been raised at his mother’s table. 

The music is...derivative. But the whole show is derivative. It wouldn’t exist if Hamilton didn’t exist and  _ why does he know that?  _ This is Rey’s fault.

Rey, who is standing there looking like an angel in her silver and black rock outfit. Rey, who is playing “the boring wife” just like she said. Her “Queenspiration” (a word he wishes to bleach from his memory forever) is Adele and Sia and…

Well, Rey can fucking belt.

He’s heard her sing “Memory” too many times in the shower. He knows she’s got a set of lungs on her.

_ You’re going to love it,  _ he tells himself.  _ Because you love her. Because you’re in love with her. Because you want nothing but joy for her. Because you want to marry her, maybe. Probably. Because if she wants to be a Broadway Star in this dumb fucking show, you’ll follow her to fucking New York which you hate just to make sure you don’t break her heart the way you always break everyone’s heart. _

And suddenly there’s Rey standing front and center on the stage. No dancing, no flashing lights. Just Rey, in a spotlight, singing about how strong she is in ways people don’t realize.

Damn does she have a set of lungs.

She could be singing about him--when they started. Not now. Now he’s got more of a level temper, but when he was more irascible, less reliable? Yeah that could be him. Her singing about how much she wants her child, a family—

No fucking shit she hadn’t wanted her friends to see this. Rey’s a good actress and a terrible liar and he can see the fucking honesty in every line she’s singing.  _ You can build me up, you can break me down, you can try but I’m unbreakable.  _ She doesn’t have to dance around, doesn’t have a pop-y upbeat tongue-in-cheek thing. She’s standing there, stipped bare, nothing but emotions and strength with a backdrop of patriarchal bullshit. 

_ This isn’t a boring song,  _ Ben thinks as he stares at her, utterly rapt. Or maybe it’s because Rey’s singing has always made him feel things. Maybe if he weren’t in room with her he’d feel different, if he were hearing the song on the radio.

But he’s not hearing the song on the radio. 

It’s Rey.

“What did you think?” she asks him afterwards. She’s out of costume, but still in makeup and they’re at the after party. She’d waited until she was two glasses of champagne in to ask him--he is sure because she wanted to be properly insulated from the tirade about how he hates musicals, how he hates historical fiction, how he hates—

“You were amazing,” he tells her, pulling her against his chest. Because Rey’s a bad liar, and so the fuck is he, and he’s not going to pretend he liked the show (though he  _ did _ like it more than he thought he would). 

She looks up at him and he sees a moment of derision. “I was amazing, but not  _ it _ was amazing.”

He rolls his eyes.

“You were amazing, and I love you. I loved your performance.”

Her face gets soft.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“It wasn’t boring?”

“It was you. It could never be boring.”

“You’re a sap, Ben Solo,” she grins up at him. “A sap and a snob. A snobby sap.”

He grumps down at her and she stands a little taller and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I love you,” she tells him. He never gets tired of hearing it.

“I love you,” he replies and pulls her lips to his.


End file.
